


Stupid Cupid (You're A Real Mean Guy)

by thejigsawtimess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 05:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejigsawtimess/pseuds/thejigsawtimess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam encounter a fallen Cupid. He senses a 'profound' love within Dean, and decides to loosen him up a bit. I wonder what would happen if a certain nerd angel were to drop in at this point...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Cupid (You're A Real Mean Guy)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crack!fic so prepare for a seriously gooified Dean (but it makes sense within the context of the story I swear).

"I don't know, Sammy," Dean murmured to the man beside him as they crept slowly down the dark, deserted hallway, guns raised protectively in front of them, "something just isn't right here."

"C'mon Dean, nine times out of ten it's another gang of Demons on a power trip now that Crowley's loosened their leash a bit." Sam hissed back, his wide eyes darting about, looking for traces of sulphur, blood, or indeed anything remotely suspicious.

"And how many Demons have you come across that bind two people face-to-face together with gift ribbon and just take off? Or make their victims tattoo their names on to each other?!" Sam just shrugged. "I'm tellin' you man, this is not your run of the mill salt, stake and slay kind of hunt. We've got a nutjob on our hands."

At that moment, a resounding crash split the silent air, coming from a room on the left. They had traced the strange activity of whatever creature they were dealing with back to an old abandoned greeting cards factory – just the kind of places the Winchester boys loved to frequent on a Friday night. Well, someone had to keep the world safe.

Sam and Dean shared a quick look that told each of them they were thinking the same thing, and they marched forwards towards the sound of the clattering, guns still raised. They reached the closed door of the room the sound was coming from and Dean raised his hand to stop Sam from turning the handle.

"Wait…" Dean said, and Sam paused, looking incredulous, "is that… does that sound like  _crying_ to you?!"

Sam's brow creased and he looked at Dean as if he'd gone insane, but then he heard it. A distinct wailing noise was emanating from the sliver of space underneath the door frame. He leaned closer to the door, nearly pressing his ear against the wood. Loud, wet sobbing sounds were coming thick and fast now, and the hunters, thinking of the possibility of victims, wasted no time shoving the door open and barging inside.

The sight they were met with caused them to stand stock still, their eyes wider than was surely healthy, despite wanting to look away so very, very badly. The room was a scrap heap of old machinery, and it was absolutely littered with old, decaying remnants of greetings cards. The breeze from the door opening was enough to send a whole pile of them fluttering about the room like confetti, raining down on the huddled, weeping, naked man in the centre of the floor, occasionally banging his feet on the ground like a toddler having a tantrum.

Sam risked a glance at Dean, who was beginning to look so uncomfortable with the situation that Sam wondered if he might fire his gun at the ceiling just to restore some masculinity. Sam however, was the more sympathetic of the two.

"Um, hello?"

The naked man appeared to take no notice of Sam's greeting, and instead reached for a card next to his feet and began to read it, his eyes brimming with tears again. Dean discreetly started to edge away before the next wave of hysterical crying began and turned to inspect some of the rusty machinery that lay scattered around. If Dean had to guess, and it would honestly be a guess because the production of greeting cards wasn't exactly his forte, he would say that the thing he was looking at now had once been some sort of printing press. He struggled to make out the writing etched into the side of the metal.

_Valentine's Day Card Press_

"Bingo!" He cried, grinning to himself, and mentally adding greeting card production to the list of things he knew all about. The main other things on the list were: hunting, fixing the Impala, picking up women and where to buy the best cheeseburgers in every state in America.

Of course  _that_ would be the thing that got the attention of the psycho baby-man in the middle of the floor. His head snapped up and he stared at Dean in surprise for a few moments. Dean was just getting very seriously weirded out when a huge grin broke across the man's chubby features.

In a blink, the man had vanished from his spot on the floor and reappeared inches away from Dean's nose, making him jump back in surprise and cock his gun.

"Dean!" Sam shouted out of impulse from near the door, causing the naked creature to whip his head around and smile at the other hunter cheerily for a moment, before focusing back on Dean.

"Oh! Hello there, friend!" The creature said in a singsong voice, and before Dean could react, enveloped him in a tight, bone-crushing hug. Dean struggled and protested admirably, but its grip was vicelike and determined. Eventually, he was released and he staggered backwards, panting. "What a wonderful surprise for you to come and pay me a visit! And in such a  _perfect_ place! Aren't these cards just  _beautiful_? One for every human in the world, just so they know they're loved."

"Cupid! It's gotta be a Cupid, Dean!" Sam called out, sounding considerably more terrified than he should be of a form of angel. Well, he was next up on the hug list after all.

With a giggle and a cheeky wink in Dean's direction, Cupid vanished and reappeared behind a tense and fearful looking Sam. Dean watched with a mild sense of satisfaction, rubbing his bruised biceps, as the Cupid tapped Sam on the shoulder, causing him to spin around in alarm and be hugged within an inch of his life.

"Okay, okay, enough!" Dean shouted, gun pointed squarely at the Cupid's now very happy, very naked form. Dean willed himself not to look anywhere but his face. "What's going on here, Cupid? Are you behind all this weird crap happening all over town?"

Cupid turned to look at Dean, a bemused smile gracing his rosy cheeked face. He shrugged. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Dean." A sudden peal of laughter suddenly burst from the cherub's lips. "Oh aren't rhymes just the best fun?" He chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye.

"You know what we mean, Cupid. People tattooing their names onto each other while their sleeping? Rohypnol in loveheart candies? This has got your name written all over it. I should have known it'd be a Cupid." Sam said, walking casually over to where Dean stood, both of them lowering their shotguns in mild embarrassment when they realised the futility of such an object against a soldier of Heaven – no matter how low the rank.

The Cupid started chewing his lip anxiously, twiddling his thumbs.

Dean didn't let this cutesy act sway him from this line of interrogation. "Yeah, I guess we just thought with you being an  _Angel_ and all, we wouldn't have to deal with this kind of psychotic-"

"Yeah well, Angels fall!" The Cupid suddenly yelled in a decibel the boys didn't think a Cupid was capable of reaching, and Dean itched to point the gun again, just so he didn't feel so defenceless. The cherub seemed to be taking some deep breaths to calm himself, and the two brothers eyed each other warily but said nothing. When the anger had seeped out of him, he took on a despondent air that made the bright façade he had just greeted the Winchesters with seem all the more impressive. "You wouldn't understand." The Cupid sighed, walking back over to his spot in the midst of all the cards.

"Try us." Dean said, his face stony. When people were being hurt, it was not in Dean's nature to sympathise with the culprit. Luckily, that was what he had Sam for.

"We've seen a lot. If anyone can understand, it's us." Sam urged, edging closer to the angel who was now standing with his back to the Winchesters.

"Could you ever understand what it is like to devote yourself so completely to a task?" The brothers looked at one another briefly, mutually thinking of the times in their lives they had realised they would die hunters, and die hunting. "To aid humans in finding true love is my devotion. My obsession. I was born to carry out this job! Heaven can never understand how completely it destroys us Cupids when we are forbidden from letting true love come to pass. We are too low in our ranks even to be told  _why_ our lovers cannot be together! We receive the orders and we must obey. Well one day I simply refused. I fired my bow right into the heart of the one I had been forced to swear not to touch, and that same day she fell in love with her best friend. The looks on their faces! OH, it was just  _divine_. They're married now, three little angels of their own and happy as clams! None the wiser that their love got me kicked out of Paradise straight onto my bouncing bottom."

The Cupid sighed and materialised next to Dean, resting a head on his shoulder. Dean tensed immediately, but didn't push him away.

"So… err... what you're saying is, you got kicked out of Heaven for disobeying orders… and now you're playing by your own rules?" Sam summarised, much to Dean's relief, who was having trouble keeping up with the sob story.

"Precisely!" The Cupid grinned, his head snapping up.

"But you can't just do whatever the hell you want! People might not want to fall in love with other people!" Dean cried, infuriated at the thought.

"Oh, silly. I still have my powers! I can sense the lurrrrve! If two people want to be together it's written on their hearts! I just help it along!" The Cupid was grinning even wider now if that were possible and standing boldly in front of the two brothers, hands on his naked, naked hips.

"With  _rohypnol?!_ " Sam cried, incredulously.

"Hmm, I'll admit my methods are a little more… unorthodox now…"

"You're damn right!" Dean almost yelled. "Messing with people's free will is not okay with us, birthday suit, so-"

"Oh _, Deeeean_. Tut tut. You are not listening!" The Cupid cut in before Dean could finish, poking him in the shoulder. Dean opened his mouth to protest further but was silenced by something menacing lurking deep within the angel's eyes. "I  _know_ when someone loves somebody else! I can feel it! It gives me little tingles all over. Like you, right now!"

Sam's head whipped up from the Cupid's face to Dean's, which was a mixture of terror and fury. "What?!"

"Mmmm, yes. It's filling up this whole ROOM with happy feelings, Dean! I can sense a very…" The Cupid seemed to ponder for a moment, as if choosing the exact word to use, " _profound_  love within you. It's just  _everywhere!_ " The Cupid span around as if illustrating his point, dancing through the invisible love that Dean was supposedly pouring out of his skin. "In fact! I can't just let you wallow about in that old _repressed_ stuff can I? What kind of Cupid would that make me?"

Dean, who had apparently been too stunned to speak thus far, was suddenly roused into action by these words. "What?! No, that's not- I don't need you to do anything! I'm not in love! Who would I be in love with? There's nobody – Sammy back me up here!"

Sam just shrugged and shook his head. "He's a  _Cupid,_ Dean. Maybe…"

"Maybe nothing! Shut your trap Sam. Everyone just shut up about  _love_  for God's sakes."

"Oh dear." The Cupid sighed and looked at Dean pityingly. "Well this just won't do. Denying your true love, being rude to your own little brother, taking the Lord's name in vain…" The Cupid shot Sam a weary glance. "How do you cope?"

If Dean didn't know better he'd say that Sam smirked a little at that.

"I've got a  _darling_ little solution for our teensy weensy problem Dean, don't you worry!" Dean shot a desperate look at the only door of the room. There was no way he'd make it there before a teleporting Cupid could get hold of him. "Now, just relax."

Dean edged away as the Cupid started to move towards him, but really he should have known better, because of course as soon as he turned around, a smiling cherub face was peering up at him, and before he knew it, he was being prodded on the nose with a fat, sausage finger. "BOOP!"

Dean stumbled backwards, the force of the Cupid's magic hitting him in a tsunami wave. He landed on the floor, sending a whirlwind of pink, glittery cards flying all around him.

And then the Cupid was gone.

* * *

 

"Dean? Dean!" Sam's voice was shrill and panicked. Dean smiled internally at the sound of it. He loved it when Sammy got all concerned about him. "Can you hear me? Dean?"

Dean blinked slowly, feeling consciousness trickle over him once more. He was greeted with the sight of Sam's looming face above his own, crinkled with concern, his mouth set in a grim line. Dean's own lips stretched into a wide smile at the sight. Sam looked momentarily relieved, then unnerved at the unusually happy expression on his brother's face.

"Heeeyyy! Sammy!" Dean drawled, not bothering to move from where he was spread out on his back on the floor. "Aw, Sammy look at your little princess locks." Dean smiled, reaching up and flicking the curled ends of Sam's hair. If Sam was unnerved before, now he was thoroughly creeped out.

"Um… Dean?" Sam ventured.

"You'd make a beautiful princess, Sammy." Dean choked after a moment, still playing with a tendril of hair. Sam realised with mild horror that there were tears in his eyes.

"Okay… We're getting you to Bobby's. Now." Sam started to grab Dean's upper arm and pull him upwards, but the moment his brother was in a sitting position, Sam felt strong arms enveloping him tightly in his second bear hug in the last ten minutes.

"I love you Sammy. You always take care of me." Dean announced into his shoulder. Sam patted him awkwardly.

"Um, okay. No worries. C'mon, let's get you home."

Dean reluctantly allowed himself to be pried off of Sam's shoulders and pulled into a standing position. "Home!" Dean agreed, hand on his heart.

* * *

They made it out of the building without any major problems, save for the one near disaster wherein Dean found a Valentine's Card stuck to his shoe with a teddy on the front that read 'You're Beary Special To Me', and spent a good two minutes crying over its poetic beauty. Sam just thanked God – wherever that idgit might be hiding himself – that Dean had chosen to ignore the enormous room full of equally vomit-inducing cards they had just come from.

However, the moment Dean strolled out of the factory - linked arms with Sam upon his very childlike and very worrying insistence _-_ and caught sight of his Impala… well. He ran towards it for a few paces, but as soon as he got near enough, he sank down on his knees, tears streaming down his face, whispering sweet nothings to the into the bonnet as he lay his head against the hood.

"Oh, sweetheart. My baby. I love you so much, girl." Dean stroked the warm silver metal of the car lovingly, his eyes tightly closed. Sam stood awkwardly behind, watching the whole debacle.

"Um, Dean?"

"Shhh, Sammy." Dean interrupted, before Sam could continue, though he had no idea what he would have said. "My baby's sleepin'. She's such a good girl. Such a  _pretty_ girl." Sam ran his hand through his shaggy hair and turned around on the spot, cursing himself for never thinking to make a back-up plan for this kind of situation. There was only one thing for it, Sam thought as he glanced back over at Dean, who was now sprawled chest-down across the hood of the Impala, arms flung wide, as though embracing the car. Cupid's only complied when you played ball. He was going to have to humour his brother.

"She has, Dean. She's been a little  _angel_." Sam ventured, hating himself for being able to slide into a sickly sweet, condescending voice with so little effort. Being the negotiator of the two has its advantages it would seem. Dean's eyes opened and flickered towards him, but he didn't move from his position on the front of the car. "She's so good to us isn't she?"

Dean's lower lip wobbled slightly and Sam thought he saw him nod. He risked taking a few steps towards his brother, wary of being scrutinised, and placed a tentative hand upon the driver's side door frame.

"She just loves to do things for us; that's what she was built for. She loves you soooo much Dean." Sam put on his most convincing, sugar coated smile. It made him want to vomit slightly. "Let her show you how much, Dean. Let her take us on a little trip!" Sam held his breath, punchline delivered. Dean's outstretched arms withdrew a bit until he was resting on his elbows, leaned over against the hood of the car.

"She… she wants to?" Dean asked, unsure, his voice cracking a bit on the last word. Sam nodded vigorously, his face filled with faux concern. Dean still looked unconvinced, gazing down at his baby, and giving it gentle strokes with an absent minded hand. For emphasis, Sam rested his head against the car frame, smiling a little with what he hoped was tenderness. Dean took a deep breath in. "Alright."

Sam had to physically restrain himself from whooping with delight when Dean voluntarily walked round to carefully slide into the passenger side door. He remembered to keep his movements slow and gentle, so Dean wouldn't freak out and think he was disrespecting his one true love – which was apparently his car. Sam had to laugh at that. Was that seriously what that damn Cupid had 'sensed' when he thought Dean was in love? Sam was a liberal guy, but Sam seriously doubted that the Impala could get a Cupid's arrow fired into its trunk and fall head over heels with his older brother… then again, maybe Dean was actually in love with someone else. A real person. Sam wasn't an expert, but he doubted Cupid's were often wrong about this kind of thing. He glanced over at his brother as he pulled away from the derelict building. Had he been too wrapped up in himself lately? Had Dean been in pain, hurting over his unrequited love of some random stranger Sam had passed off as another one of his brother's endless one-time conquests? Dean looked over at him worriedly.

"This… this isn't gonna hurt her is it?" Dean asked, glancing nervously around at the dashboard and foot well. Sam gritted his teeth and turned on the radio.

* * *

"AAAAND THEY CALL IT PUPPY LOOOOOOOOOVEEE!"

Sam felt sorry for Bobby. He truly did, but unfortunately his sympathy had a limit, considering  _he_ was the one crammed into the car with the wailing, out of his mind moron who had apparently discovered his new love of feel-good love songs. Sam was sure Bobby had heard them coming a mile down the road, considering all of the Impala's windows were down and the radio was turned up to its fullest volume, much to the amusement, or in some cases annoyance of other drivers, who made several interesting comments as they drove by.

"What in the  _HELL?!_ " Bobby cried out after he'd wheeled himself out to where the boys had pulled up and Sam had finally switched off the engine.

Sam opened his mouth to apologise from inside the car, but found himself interrupted by his lunatic brother leaping out of the passenger side door and straight into Bobby's lap.

* * *

 

Perhaps understandably, it had been a stretch for Bobby to come to terms with the new Dean. Having the eldest Winchester brother in his lap and placing a loving kiss on his cheek had appeared to be too much for the old hunter, who had remained mostly silent and open-mouthed, staring at Dean's grinning face while Sam wheeled them both inside.

Once they were in the kitchen, and safely out of sight of anyone nearby, Sam felt (slightly) more in control. He hauled a giggling Dean up out of Bobby's lap by his arm and plonked him down at the table, crossed to the overhead cupboard, got out three tumblers and slammed them down in front of the men.

"Okay. Whiskey." Sam said, mostly to himself, choosing to ignore the way Dean was staring at Bobby, his face held in his hands, a dopey smile stretched across his lips.

Sam turned and went to the sink, opening one of the cupboards underneath where he knew Bobby stored the spirits. Well, some of the spirits. He pulled out a bottle of Bourbon and straightened up, kicking the door closed and unscrewing the cap in one fluid motion before striding back to the table and pouring each of them a drink.

He sat down. "Okay. Here's the deal."

He proceeded to explain what had happened with the Cupid to Bobby, who sat and stared at Sam, dumbfounded, occasionally taking gulps of his drink. Surprisingly, he didn't freak out when Dean sneaked his hand across the table and grabbed hold of Bobby's, squeezing tightly and smiling. Sam tried hard not to react when Dean threaded his other hand into his hair (what was it about the hair all of a sudden?) and began tousling playfully, but he couldn't help stuttering a little.

"So… what the hell do we do?" Sam finished eloquently, leaning back in his chair and taking a gulp of whiskey, batting Dean's hands away from his thigh.

Bobby honestly looked like this was his idea of hell. Sam couldn't help but sympathise – Bobby was an old-fashioned guy, he knew about hunting and killing ghosts and monsters and demons, not curing weird love spells and dealing with dopey, lovesick almost-sons.

"I know!" Dean cried suddenly, making them both jump. Sam felt panic start to prickle at his skin. "We should all go for a family picnic! I'll drive my baby girl and I'll… I'll bake a cake! Yeah! I'll make you both sandwiches too! I'll even do a nice healthy one for you Sammy, cause I love you so much."

Before either of the non-cursed hunters could react, Dean had leapt up from his chair, managing to spill his drink over the table in the process, and bounded over to Sam. With Dean coming up from behind him, Sam was unprepared (again) and helpless as Dean's strong arms curled around his neck and he leaned forwards to plant a kiss on Sam's cheek.

"Eeeeugh!" Sam cried, unable to help his little brotherly instincts from surfacing – this was  _Dean_ for Christ's sake! They only ever embraced in near death situations, and sometimes not even then. "Dean! Get _off!_ "

Sam struggled in his grip and Dean laughed delightedly, planting several more kisses on Sam's cheek before releasing him. From the end of the table, Bobby watched in disbelief, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Idgits."

* * *

So Dean was baking. Sam couldn't help stealing glances at Dean's back as he bustled around the kitchen, the apron knotted tightly around his middle. He shook himself out of it and reminded himself that Dean was under a weird spell. Things would be back to normal soon.

"Things will go back to normal. Won't they?" Sam couldn't help sounding desperate as he voiced his concerns to Bobby. They still sat at the kitchen table, a variety of old lore books open in front of them, and a significantly less-full Bourbon bottle nearby. So far they had found nothing – there was barely anything about fallen angels in the books, let alone fallen  _Cupids._

Bobby puffed some air out of his cheeks and leaned back in his chair, glancing over at Dean, who was whistling away as he merrily whisked a bowl of batter.

"I sure as hell hope so. Can't have one of my best hunters suddenly discover his secret desire to become a  _baker."_ Bobby grimaced as Dean turned round and gave him a cheeky wink before directing his attention back to the cake. "I tell you what I wanna know though," said Bobby a bit more quietly, leaning forwards towards Sam so that Dean wouldn't hear, "just who the hell is he in  _love_ with?!"

Sam looked startled – they were not the words he was expecting to come out of Bobby's mouth. He hadn't forgotten the Cupid's weird revelation about Dean, but honestly, it wasn't exactly at the forefront of his mind – he was a little preoccupied with trying to reverse this goddamn spell or whatever.

Sam wrinkled his nose as if he didn't particularly want to think about it. "I dunno." He breathed after a moment. He stared at Dean, who was lovingly placing the cake tin into Bobby's oven now, waving at it through the glass. Seeing his brother like this was weird – he'd never really seen Dean be romantic before, except for the rare loving gaze at Cassie or Lisa, but now it seemed his brother had a whole side to him more than capable of the gooey stuff. "I can't even remember him being with anyone recently… at least noone that I know about. We've been full-time hunting for a while now with Cas…"

Bobby shook his head and suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Other than Castiel, has there been anyone that's… you know… that's stayed around?" Sam sighed and ran through some images of the past few months in his mind. All memories were just of him, Dean and Cas. How could he have fallen in love in that time? And even if they worked out who it was, would that help cure Dean?

"Hey, um guys?" Dean asked, sounding small and almost confused for the first time since this had begun. "Is…is someone missing?"

Sam looked at Bobby, who raised his eyebrows.

"Who, Dean?" Sam questioned, leaning towards his brother with concern. Standing there forlorn and lost in his little apron, it was quite easy to feel sorry for him.

"I…I'm not sure…" Dean sounded truly troubled, and Sam noticed his lower lip begin to tremble. Uh-oh.

"Uh, Dean? Why don't you come and join me and Bobby at the table?"

He brightened almost at once, tearing off his apron and scooting his chair over towards Bobby, who looked wary.

"Gosh, Bobby. You have the  _most_ beautiful, blue eyes." Dean said, positioning his face far too close to Bobby's for comfort. Bobby was having none of it. He pushed Dean back with a hard shove, and the younger man fell back easily against his chair.

"Get off me ya idgit."

"Blue eyes…" Dean's brow was furrowed. "Really blue eyes. Sammy!" Dean's head snapped up, and Sam had to fight off a smile at the suddenly crazed expression in Dean's eyes.

"Yes Dean?" Sam said, his voice laced with amusement.

"Who has blue eyes?"

"Um… Bobby." Sam replied, glancing at the man himself, who was massaging his temples methodically.

Dean leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes tightly, as if trying to remember something. Sighing, Sam turned back to Bobby.

"I don't know Bobby, I feel like we need some help with this." Sam murmured, inclining his head towards Dean.

"Well, yeah I agree, but who the hell knows anything about fallen Cupids for God's sakes?" Bobby answered, flicking through a few pages of the books in front of him as if hoping they might suddenly give him the perfect solution.

"Well, we could always call Cas. He helped us with the last Cup-"

"CAS!" Dean was up out of his seat before Sam could register what was happening, and he only stared, unable to speak as Dean flitted about the room excitedly, flapping his hands and grinning madly.

"Um…"

"YES, Sammy. We should  _definitely_ call Castiel, what a perfect, WONDERFUL idea!" Dean almost yelled, striding towards Sam and shaking him by his broad shoulders.

"Okay, Dean! Calm down!" Sam said, looking mildly scared considering Dean's sudden proximity. "I'll call him." Sam shot Bobby a glance, only to find him looking at Dean with a raised eyebrow.

Dean clapped his hands excitedly. "Awesome.  _Awesome!_ I'll go get everything ready." Sam just nodded – anything to make Dean take a few much needed steps backwards. "Wait…" Dean hesitated, stopping on his way to the living area to turn back to Sam and Bobby once more. "Do I look okay?" He asked them, sounding genuinely concerned.

"You look gorgeous. Now get outta here ya idgit." Dean beamed and looked bashfully at Bobby before turning and actually  _skipping_ out of the room. "Hmm." Bobby said, presumably to himself.

"Right. Cas. Okay. Not that he ever listens unless it's Dean praying but I'll give it a shot." Sam said, and clasped his hands together in front of him on the table. "Err, hello. I'm Sam. Not very good at the whole praying thing so-OW!"

Bobby placed the large book he had just hit Sam with back on the table. "He don't need your life story ya idgit. Just get on with it."

"That hurt." Sam rubbed his head and frowned, but eventually clasped his hands and closed his eyes once more. "I pray to the angel Castiel. We need your help, Cas. Like, real bad. Could you spare a minute? We just need to run some stuff past you." He cracked open an eyelid and looked around. Nothing. Bobby shrugged and motioned for him to continue. "Err, Cas? You know I wouldn't ask unless it was really important. I know your busy doing… um, angel stuff." He opened his eyes again. Not even a flutter.

Sam growled and screwed his eyes shut again. "Okay, look I know you don't usually  _grace_ us with your presence unless your golden boy calls you himself, but Dean's a little preoccupied right now, having been cursed by a damn  _Cupid_ so-"

"Hello Sam."

* * *

 

Sam jumped up from his seat and turned around to face the source of the voice. Castiel stood awkwardly in the corner of the kitchen, drenched in beige trenchcoat as per usual. Sam couldn't help the wave of relief that washed over him.

"Cas."

"What's wrong? You mentioned that Dean-"

"CAS!"

"Oh, Lord…" Bobby murmured under his breath as Dean bounded into the kitchen, wearing a different shirt, the one that Sam knew Dean was aware fitted like it was sprayed on.

Castiel looked alarmed, but didn't move other than to turn slightly, just in time to see Dean run across the kitchen towards him and throw his arms around his neck, pulling him close. Sam had to raise a hand to his lips to stifle the giggle that slipped out upon hearing the indignant squeak Castiel made as he was squeezed.

"Mmmmmmmmm." Dean said, his nose buried deeply in Castiel's neck, rocking the angel from side to side. Cas seemed at a loss at what to do with his hands, and they fluttered uncertainly at Dean's sides, eventually resting gingerly on his waist.

Over by the table, Sam made the mistake of catching Bobby's eye, sending them both into spluttering hysterics. They couldn't help themselves – the sheer absurdity of the situation was overwhelming.

It became apparent over the giggling that Castiel was attempting to speak, his efforts in vain as his face was pressed firmly against Dean's shoulder. After some very patient tapping on Castiel's part, Dean seemed to understand that communication was desired by his angel, and he loosened his grip slightly, leaning back to look deeply into Castiel's eyes.

"Cas." He said warmly, adoration etched onto his features. "Missed you so much!" He cried, lifting his hands to cup Castiel's face. Cas could only look concerned and somewhat nonplussed.

"It appears Dean is not himself." Castiel said matter-of-factly, his voice slightly muffled by the scrunch of his cheeks in Dean's hands. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Well, duh. We were kinda hoping you could tell us a bit more than that." Sam replied. Castiel noted that he sounded irritated and resolved to answer his prayers more quickly next time. It would please Dean if he did anyway.

"Tell me everything that's happened leading up to this point." Castiel said, and with a nonchalance so shocking it took several seconds for Sam to be able to speak, Castiel placed his hands over Dean's, laced his fingers through them and led him over to a seat at the kitchen table. Dean didn't object – far from it, and looked on with admiration as Castiel gently coaxed him into the chair. Once Dean was seated however, Castiel turned, intending to continue his conversation with Sam, but instead found himself pulled sharply downwards by arms snaking around his waist. He landed directly in Dean's lap, who grinned delightedly. A blush immediately flew into the angel's cheeks – something none of the men in the room had seen before – and Sam reasoned it must be an unconscious reaction from Jimmy.

Castiel struggled and tried to slide off, but Sam knew from experience that Dean was not only strong but determined. At length, the angel sighed and ceased moving. Shooting a last look at Dean, who only wound his arms around his waist even tighter, Castiel said simply, "continue."

It was not an easy task to concentrate on the retelling of the Cupid fiasco while a freaking  _angel of the Lord_ was seated primly on your brother's lap, but Sam got through it somehow, with Bobby interjecting now and again whenever Dean's wandering hands caused him to stutter.

"Alright, Sam. I think I have all the information I require." Castiel said eventually, clamping a hand down on Dean's wrist as his fingers started to slide through the button holes of his shirt. "Dean, I will be needing to get up now." Castiel was purposefully not looking Dean in the face, his cheeks still rosy from the intimacy of the situation.

Dean's cheerful expression fell almost immediately, but he reluctantly let go of Castiel's waist, and the angel stood up quickly, trying to maintain an air of dignity. Sam just looked at him with his eyebrows raised. Like he wasn't enjoying every moment of being Dean's new favourite toy.

"I believe the best option would be for me to find the Cupid and bring him here for questioning." Castiel said to Sam, bringing the younger brother back to the situation at hand. "I am not certain of the different methods a Cupid uses to manipulate human emotion and…" he glanced towards Dean, who beamed back at him, "…mental stability. If we interrogate the Cupid, he can just tell us himself how to sort this out."

"Do you really think you can find him?" Sam asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter. He shot a worried glance at Bobby, who was eyeing Dean warily as he gazed adoringly at Cas's back.

"It shouldn't be too difficult. Angels have a sort of… intuition when it comes to other angels." Castiel replied firmly. Sam nodded and was about to say they should get a move on when suddenly Castiel let out a very un-angelic squawk. Sam looked alarmed, and noticed Dean had got up from his seat to sidle over to Castiel's side.

"I didn't need to see that." Bobby called from his place at the table.

Sam looked confusedly at Castiel, who had a dark expression on his face. "Dean decided now was the moment to pinch my rear." Cas explained, and Sam shuddered in horror at the thought, looking up into Dean's mischievous grin to confirm.

"Ew. Whatever. Can we get a move on with this please? I'm getting some scarring mental images, here. Although I guess it's enough material to tease him with for  _life_ if we get him back to his normal state."

Castiel nodded and then jumped slightly as Dean threaded his hand through his, entwining their fingers and giving him a quick squeeze of affection. Cas looked up into Dean's glinting eyes and found he'd lost the ability to speak. Luckily, Dean didn't seem to mind, and leant down to whisper in Castiel's ear.

" _I want to smother you in cake batter and lick it off."_ Sam couldn't hear what Dean was saying, but judging from Castiel's reaction, it was highly inappropriate for a virginal angel of Heaven. Cas' eyes went wide and if he was blushing before, now it was full on beetroot, all the way down his neck and blooming in his cheeks.

He stepped away from Dean and tore his hand quickly from the vice-like grip. "I… err… I should, I should get going. S-see you in a moment, Sam."

And with a faintly audible flutter of wings he was gone, leaving Sam and Bobby to deal with the now distraught looking Dean in the middle of the kitchen.

"W-where'd he go?" Dean asked, his voice a strained murmur. Sam saw the lip tremble a fraction too late this time. In less than a second Dean was  _bawling,_  his fists scrunched against his eyes like a toddler.

"Oh, Lord. I'm too old for this." Bobby said, wheeling himself over to the whiskey bottle on the other end of the table.

"Um, there there, Dean. Cas'll be back real soon. Don't cry." Sam knew his attempts at consolation were half-hearted at best but he was hanging dearly on to the hope that Cas would return, they'd get a cure out the damn Cupid that started all this, and Dean would go back to his normal, repressed, angry self. Sam patted his brother awkwardly, and sniffed the air. "Hey, Bobby… do you smell burning?"

* * *

 

Sam had to admit it was kind of eerily cool how the second Dean bolted from the kitchen wailing and crying was the exact moment Bobby's age old smoke detector decided to burst into life, as if joining in with Dean's tortured howls.

"Oh for Christ's- Sam! Open a damn window would ya?" Bobby cried over the cacophony, wheeling himself over to the oven. With an impatient air, he grabbed a tea towel off the counter and wrenched open the oven door, immediately filling the room with thick, grey smoke.

Of course, being who he was, Sam's first instinct upon seeing the smoke was to grab the table salt Bobby helpfully kept a hefty supply of on the counter, but he soon realised his mistake when Bobby leaned into the dark cloud and pulled out a very black, very flat looking cake.

Ah, no demons then. Just his brother's equally scary attempt at baking.

Sam darted to the windows above the sink and flung them wide, before proceeding to climb up on the table and swat his hands in front of the smoke detector, trying to clear the air around it. It worked after a while, and the silence felt like a soothing lullaby to the men's ears. Bobby flung the ruined cake noisily into the sink, grumbling something Sam didn't quite catch about living in a asylum and not even getting a cake out of it.

Sam clambered down awkwardly, his gangly limbs hitting the lampshade on the way. Bobby closed his eyes and took a deep breath in before speaking.

"Well…" He began, but a noise from above suddenly stopped him mid-sentence. "What now?!"

" _If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along so why can't you seeeeeeeeee, you belong with meeeeeee!"_

Sam's blood ran cold, and he listened with horror as his brother's deep, masculine voice drowned out the pop-country twang of Taylor Swift. He glanced down at Bobby, who was looking very pale, and staring at the ceiling, as if willing the noise from above to stop.

"Oh god…" Sam said, running his hands through his hair in anguish, "he found my iPod."

* * *

They moved into the living area and closed the door in a vain attempt to drown out the unwavering screech of Dean attempting notes far, far out of his range, but unfortunately Bobby's old house was not built for soundproofing.

" _Romeo save me I've been feeling so alone, I keep waiting for you but you never come…"_

"How many damn songs does this chick  _have?!_ " Bobby yelled as he wheeled himself one-handed in a circle, pouring a viscous, amber oil onto the floor as he went. Sam shrugged from his position seated on the desk and looked sheepish.

"I have both her albums. Not the new one though. I need to get that actually-HEY!"

Sam only just managed to swerve out of the way of the book on mountain trolls Bobby aimed impressively at his head.

"It's your damn fault for buying that hippy chick's soppy kid-pop in the first place!" Bobby cried, jabbing a finger at Sam accusingly and wheeling himself back to his position behind the desk.

"Hey! Taylor is teen  _country and western_ singer slash songwriter-"

He was interrupted by a loud crash as Castiel appeared out of nowhere, a struggling, naked man clasped tightly to his chest. They fell to the floor together, the Cupid clearly squashing Castiel quite impressively, making the furniture in the room jump a few inches into the air and the whole house tremble.

"For God's sakes, this place is not strong enough to withstand an angel battle!" Bobby cried angrily, wheeling himself over towards where the two new guests had landed.

"Um, Sam?" Castiel wheezed from underneath the flailing Cupid. "Do you think you could-ah! alight the trap now?"

Sam blinked, and then remembered the circle of Jerusalem oil Bobby had laid out mere moments before. He reached for his lighter, and set the oil ablaze with the practiced efficiency of a hunter used to burning bones in graveyards at 2am in the freezing cold.

Sam tried not to let the fact that Castiel was willing to be trapped in the flames himself distract him from the irritation he still felt over the angel's ignoring his prayers earlier. Still, it was nice that he was so trusting. Or maybe he'd just do anything to save his precious Dean.

As soon as the trap was lit, Castiel released his fierce hold on the Cupid, who stood up, looking more pissed off than Sam would have thought possible for a soldier of  _lurrrve._

"What is the meaning of this?!" The Cupid cried, probably thinking he looked intimidating. To be honest, if he wanted to have that effect, he needed to start wearing clothes. "Release me at once!" He said, stamping his foot on the floor. If Sam hadn't known better, he would have thought he saw Cas roll his eyes.

"Hello again." Sam said grimly, trying to look scary and not-to-be-messed with, like Dean when he interrogated people. "I'd like to ask you a quick favour."

"Well you can shove it, Rapunzel! I don't take orders anymore!" The Cupid actually stuck his tongue out to emphasise his point. Sam's brow furrowed for a second, and he tossed his hair back self-consciously.

"Look, I don't care about your weird little feud with Heaven – you messed with my brother and I want him back!" Sam said, stepping almost dangerously close to the flames.

The Cupid sniffed and turned his back on Sam. Castiel suddenly growled, spurring into action. He grabbed the Cupid by the shoulder and whirled him round so that they were face to face. Well, vessel to vessel.

"You listen to me, you little brat," Castiel snarled, and it sounded incredibly menacing in that low, gravelly voice. Sam raised his eyebrows at Bobby, who actually smirked a little and looked away, "I'm sick and tired of your kind merrily running around shooting arrows wherever you please, and leaving  _us_ to clean up your messes. You're the  _children_ , the  _babies_ of our Paradise, and you're nothing but an embarrassment. So you've decided to  _fall_ because the orders weren't quite to your liking? Diddums." Sam actually spluttered a little at that. The Cupid was just standing there open-mouthed as Castiel let what must have been thousands of years of pent up anger rain down upon him. "I will not allow you to flit about manipulating humans in this way any longer, it is unacceptable. And now that you've chosen to use your powers on Dean…" Castiel's expression darkened, and he smirked a little. Sam found it very unsettling. "I'm going to report you to our superiors."

Sam sucked in a breath. He knew what that meant - the archangels. He of all people knew that they were not to be messed with. A wail came from the Cupid's mouth, although for a second Sam thought it was still Dean, warbling along to 'I'd Lie' now. Sam would never admit it, but that was his favourite. Castiel cocked his head to the side for a moment, as if trying to decipher what the noise from upstairs was, but quickly regained his focus.

"No! No, brother I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you! Please don't report me, I'll do anything!" The Cupid had Castiel by the lapels of his coat, and suddenly buried his face into the angel's shoulder, sobbing noisily. Castiel looked vaguely disgusted, and then sighed.

"I suppose we could come to an agreement." Castiel said, loud enough to cover Dean – who was still going strong. Sam risked a glance at Bobby from outside the blazing ring, and the old hunter gave him a shrug.

"Yes! Yes, thankyou brother. Anything." The Cupid said excitedly, leaning back. Sam smirked a little at the wet patch left on Castiel's shoulder.

"Release Dean Winchester from whatever curse, spell or enchantment you have him under currently." Castiel said simply, and folded his arms across his chest protectively.

The Cupid suddenly looked exasperated and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, like they were all idiots. "I can't! Obviously, he's in love. Cupid's can't stop you from being in love!"

Castiel looked confused. Sam had slightly emitted part of the story when telling Cas about what had happened. He'd just sort of… left out the bit where the Cupid had said Dean was in love. He wasn't sure why he had. He just had a feeling Cas might react… strangely.

"I don't understand." Castiel said in response to the Cupid's revelation. Sam purposefully didn't look at either angel.

The Cupid let out a long suffering sigh.

" _But the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now!"_

Sam shook his head in disbelief. When this was over, he was getting Dean singing lessons. Oh no… was he crying again? Sure enough, every line or so a distinct and very childlike wail could be heard. Sam ran his hands through his hair again.

"I sensed a…" the Cupid raked his eyes over Castiel's guarded form and broke into a huge grin, "very  _profound_ love within Dean. So I decided to break down his inhibitions! Just until it's found and returned of course. He's such a defensive little thing –  _oodles_  of trust issues there. He would never have done anything about it otherwise." Castiel still looked confused.

"Wait a minute… so he'll be like this until this 'love' of his is 'found and returned'?" Sam didn't usually use inverted commas as a hand gesture because Dean said it looked idiotic, but right now he felt it was needed. This was starting to get ridiculous. Ha. Starting.

"Yep!" The Cupid said, far too cheerily in Sam's opinion, and cast a sideways glance knowingly at Castiel, whose eyebrows were so knotted together in confusion, they were probably on a first-name basis.

"But how are we supposed to know who the hell he's in love with?!" Sam asked, when nobody else seemed to want to say anything. Other than Dean of course, who was still singing like a trooper.

The Cupid looked at Sam and laughed aloud, bending over double and wiping a tear from his eye. When he saw Sam was not laughing with him however, he straightened up. "You're kidding, right?" Sam shook his head in wonder. Castiel gulped. "They both fill up the  _room_ with their love! It's so strong! Are you seriously telling me you can't feel it, even when they're both right next to you?!" The Cupid seemed to be asking Sam, who was starting to sense that something big was about to be uncovered. He shook his head again, a little more nervously this time.

"Oh for God's sakes, isn't it obvious?" Bobby cried suddenly, and Sam jumped as if only just remembering he was there. Bobby wheeled himself around to the front of the desk, carefully avoiding the still-bright flames. "He's in love with  _Cas_."

* * *

Castiel resembled a small mouse, cornered by three hungry cats. That was the only thing that sprang into Sam's mind as he took in the sight of the angel standing frozen and wide-eyed in the middle of the flaming ring. The Cupid was grinning again.

Sam just stared at Bobby. "…What?"

"Oh come on Sam, you're supposed to be the smart one." Bobby said, looking like he was tired of the conversation already. "Dean loves Cas. Cas loves Dean. It's so obvious I don't know why I didn't think of it before. You must have noticed how they're always  _staring_ at each other. It's creepy as hell, there's no way you could've missed it. Not to mention all the 'profound bond' crap Cas is always spewing. Correct me if I'm wrong, Cupid, but somehow I think I hit the nail on the head here."

Sam's mouth hung open as Bobby talked. The Cupid started nodding emphatically and Sam glanced up, disbelievingly. "Got it in one, mister! You should have my job!" The Cupid said, and started laughing again, nudging a still-frozen Castiel with his elbow.

"What… I mean…  _really?!"_ Sam asked, unable to keep his voice from jumping a few decibels.

"Really, really!" The Cupid beamed, and flung his arms around Castiel. "Congratulations on the love, brother!"

"A-and Cas… do you… do you really…" Sam took a deep breath in and closed his eyes, blocking out the image of Castiel's terrified expression. "AreyouinlovewithDean?"

For a few moments, Castiel said nothing. Then the angel seemed to slump a bit in the Cupid's arms. The Cupid seemed to take this as a return of affection, and deepened his embrace. Cas struggled admirably, but Sam knew from experience that a Cupid's chokehold is impossible to break free of.

Castiel sighed. "Well… of course…I-I-" The blush was filling Cas' face again, and Bobby decided to interject before everyone started growing vaginas.

"Alright, alright. Let's not humiliate a freakin' angel of the Lord, I think it's pretty obvious he's a little lovesick. I guess it rubs off on you when you rescue someone from Hell and rebel against Heaven for them and all that." The Cupid finally released Cas and sat on the floor, gazing up at his brother in awe. Bobby rubbed the back of his neck, as if all this trying-to-understand-the-angels-of-today lark was draining him physically.

Castiel didn't try to protest his innocence, and Sam figured that was as good as a love confession. Well, as good as they were going to get out of Castiel.

"Okay. Well that was awkward as hell. But… surely that means you can put Dean back to normal now?" Sam asked the Cupid hopefully. The Cupid mimed cocking a gun to his head and blowing his brains out.

"Why do you humans never  _listen?!_ " He cried, irritated. "I  _can't_ change him back, I already told you! His love has to be found and returned!"

Sam buried his head in his hands for a moment before speaking again. "But we  _have_ found the guy he's in love with! Sorry, angel." Sam corrected, inclining his head towards Cas, who managed a weak nod in reply. "He's right there!"

The Cupid let out three very slow claps, and hung his head over his lap, as if it were weighing him down. "Bravo. I wonder what the next step could be?" The Cupid's voice was dripping with sarcasm. It made Bobby and Sam grit their teeth.

"But he already said he loves Dean too! Cas?" Castiel's head snapped up. "Do you love Dean?"

"I do." Castiel said, his voice grave. There was a hint of pink still tinging his cheeks. Sam forgot what he was going to say. He hadn't expected Castiel's answer to be so frank. So Castiel loved Dean. Huh. He supposed it was kind of nice. Like his brother having a guardian angel. That he made out with sometimes. Ew. Stop that thought in its tracks, Sam.

"So it's returned!" Bobby cried, growing tired of waiting for Sam to finish his rant.

The Cupid stood up, face thunderous now. "No, no, no, NO!" He yelled, loud enough to make Dean stop singing for a moment. Only for a moment though. "Castiel has to go and prove to  _Dean_ that he loves him. OBVIOUSLY!" The Cupid cried. "Now let me goooo! Do you have any idea how  _hot_ it is in these traps?"

Sam looked at Bobby, who shrugged, and then at Cas, who nodded, looking so uncomfortable that Sam wondered if he might just fly away once they were released. Without a word, he reached for two of the bottles of holy water Bobby kept on the shelf behind him, chucked one over to Bobby himself and they began methodically upending the contents onto the flames.

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief the moment he was free.

"Well, not that this hasn't been just  _oodles_ of fun guys, but I'm going." The Cupid said, sounding like a petulant child, and with a waggle of his sausage-like fingers, he disappeared.

"Why the hell don't those guys wear diapers like in the movies?" Bobby asked aloud, breaking the tense atmosphere. Castiel cocked his head to one side. Sam just gave him a look. "What? Someone had to say something." Shrugged Bobby, wheeling away.

* * *

"So… Cas." Sam began.

"Don't, Sam." Castiel warned, shooting him a glare. Bobby chuckled from his position back behind the desk.

"Cas, it's getting serious. If he plays 'Love Story' one more time I'm going to disown him as a brother." Sam threatened. Castiel tilted his head at the mention of pop culture as usual, but still sighed and looked Heaven-wards.

"I know. I should… go talk to him." Castiel said at length. He sounded terrified again. Sam could sympathise. It didn't matter if you were a twelve-year-old kid or a thousands of years old angel, talking to your crush is hard. Though Sam supposed it was technically more than a crush. Castiel was in love with Dean. He was still adjusting to that thought.

Sam smiled sympathetically and crossed the room to give him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. This seemed only to confuse Castiel, who frowned. Sam sighed. "Well, we'll be here. If you need anything. Don't worry, he's out of his mind. He probably won't even remember anything you say."

Oh come on. Even Sam knew that was a long shot. Still, Cas slid off of the table he was leaned against and walked towards the door.

" _I'll be the Prince and you'll be the Princess, it's a love story baby just say yes!"_

Castiel seemed to square his shoulders, and then wrenched open the door leading to the stairs.

* * *

Knock, knock, knock.

" _ROMEO TAKE ME SOMEWHERE WE CAN BE ALONE"_

The singing was much louder from just outside Dean's bedroom door. Castiel knocked again, a little harder; it sounded like Dean had turned his music up to its fullest volume.

The girl singing stopped abruptly, Dean along with it. "Who is it?" Came a grumpy voice from inside.

"Um, Dean?" Castiel said tentatively, hoping his voice travelled through the door.

"Cas?!" Dean said from inside, his voice full of barely stifled excitement. Seconds later, the door was flung open and Castiel found himself dragged into the room by his tie. Dean led him like a proud child with a pet on a leash over to his bed, where he sat Castiel down and perched eagerly beside him.

It appeared Dean had kept his room at Bobby's the same as when he was a little boy, and there were two beds in here, so Castiel assumed he must share it with Sam when they stayed here. It was very blue, and Dean had stuck several images of musicians up on the walls on his side. Sam had chosen to decorate with pictures of his mother, his father, Bobby and Dean. Castiel couldn't help smiling a little as he imagined the two boys as youngsters right here in this spot, bickering and playing together.

"Dean. We need to talk." Castiel said, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He desired to get this over with as quickly as possible, despite his racing heart. Dean nodded enthusiastically.

"Sure, Cas! What do you wanna talk about? What's your favourite colour? Do angels have favourite colours? Do angels see different colours? I bet you think mine is green but-"

Castiel clamped a hand over Dean's mouth. Dean looked wide-eyed for a moment, and then Castiel felt him smile. "No. I'm going to talk."

Dean nodded in response, so Cas decided it was safe to remove his hand. The moment he was free, Dean swung his legs over Castiel's lap and lay back on the bed. "What are you doing?" Castiel asked, genuinely confused.

"Getting comfy! Go ahead, angel." Dean said, and winked at Cas as soon as he was settled, motioning for the angel to begin speaking. Castiel sighed and placed his hands on Dean's knees, which were draped over his own.

"Dean… I raised you from Hell. I gathered up the torn, broken pieces of your soul and stitched them back together. I remade your body – every inch of you-" Dean chuckled at that and Castiel blushed. "What I mean is, I know you perfectly. I know everything you are. I've seen you at your worst, Dean. Your very worst, ripping souls to shreds with your bare hands." Castiel glanced down at Dean. His eyes were closed and he looked as if he very much didn't want to think about that. "And knowing all of that, instead of repelling me, like it probably should, it made me realise how truly good you are, Dean. Despite everything you've been through, going through more suffering than anyone around you has ever gotten a glimpse of, you are still  _you_. You're still fiercely loyal, and protective of your loved ones. You're astoundingly brave and honest and pure. You're the most beautiful soul I've ever known, and there was no way I could possibly help… falling in love with you."

Silence surrounded them as soon as Castiel finished. He determinedly stared at the door, not at Dean, who was being infuriatingly quiet for once.

Suddenly, Cas felt a sharp jab in his ribs. "Ow!" He cried, jumping and turning to look at Dean, who had propped himself up on his elbows now, grinning.

"Really, Cas?!" He asked animatedly, and Cas looked wary - because wasn't that confession supposed to have done the trick - but nodded once. Dean laughed excitedly and clapped his hands in joy. "I love you too Castiel, oh great and powerful angel of the Lord!" He cried out, and flung his arms around Castiel's neck, pressing their lips together excitedly.

Castiel was unprepared. The pizza man hadn't taught him how to deal with an attack, and he could only sit there, frozen in shock as Dean kissed him mercilessly, peppering him with chaste pecks. After a few moments of panic however, it became apparent that Dean was not going to stop, so Castiel decided to surrender himself to the will of his righteous man.

Castiel allowed himself to concentrate on the warmth of Dean's lips against his – something he hadn't anticipated – and when Dean broke away for a moment, Cas leaned back in, seeking the heat again. Castiel's hands fluttered again at Dean's waist, but this time he allowed himself to rest there more solidly, feeling the expanse of Dean's strong muscles beneath his shirt. Dean pulled Castiel's lower lip carefully between his own and sucked gently. Castiel tried to mimick this movement, much to Dean's approval it seemed, who moaned softly. Castiel could feel Dean's hands start to wind into his hair, his long fingers brushing over places on his scalp that made him shudder. He pulled Dean closer by his waist and leaned further up, into the kiss, pushing for more.

It was at about this point that Dean blacked out.

He tumbled backwards, luckily caught by Castiel, who guided his fall to the bed. He bent over the man worriedly, wondering if the kissing had become too much for him, and if it had something to do with his angelic power.

Then Dean's eyelids fluttered.

He blinked a few times before everything swam into focus. The first thing he saw was Castiel, leaned over him anxiously, his head cocked to one side and his brow creased in concern as per usual.

Dean gulped. He remembered everything.  _Everything._

"Oh, God." Dean said and closed his eyes again, willing his brain to slip back into unconsciousness. No such luck. He opened his eyes and saw that Castiel had started to realise what was happening. The angel was looking extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden. They both sat up at the same time.

Choosing to ignore that weird moment of symmetry, they looked away from each other. Dean felt heat rise in his cheeks as certain memories of the past day washed over him.  _The cake, the singing, the KISSING…_

"So you're um… all better now." Castiel said. It sounded like a statement not a question. Dean felt the need to respond anyway.

"Yep. Fine. Fit as a fiddle. Thanks, Cas." Dean replied, still not looking at him. He thought he saw Castiel nod out of the corner of his eye.

"Right. Okay. I'll… I'll just be going then, I think. Bye, Dean." By the time Dean gathered up the courage to look up and say that he should stick around so they could talk about this, the angel had gone.

* * *

"So you just let him fly away?!"

Sam was giving Dean a headache. Honestly, he could be such a little bitch sometimes. It wasn't his fault he got all gooey-fied by a freaking Cupid.

"Shut it, Sammy. Just butt out, okay?" Dean growled, rubbing his forehead. Bobby gave Sam a look that said  _talk to him._

Sam knew what the look meant, but was tempted to ignore it. Dean looked like he was ready to kill something. Or someone. At times like this Sam had learned (the hard way) that it was better to give his brother some space.

Bobby was having none of it though, and wheeled himself across the room towards the door leading to the kitchen. He gave Sam another glare as he passed, tossing his head in the vague direction of Dean, and running over Sam's foot for good measure.

Sam mouthed 'OW' at the old hunter as he left the room, and pretended not to hear the murmur of 'idgits' under his breath.

"Dean." Sam said, his voice barely making it across the room to where his brother sat slumped in a chair by the desk, his head propped in one hand. He didn't respond. "Dean, can I just say one thing?"

Dean shrugged and didn't open his eyes.

"Cas never comes when I call him." Sam said, shaking his head a little and staring at Dean's unmoving face.  
"And when you think about it, why would he? He's an angel! He's got way more important stuff to do than tell me how to kill this week's Biblical monster, when I'd probably eventually find out anyway."

Sam hesitated, scanning Dean's passive face for a reaction. Nada.

"So then… that begs the question, why does he come when you call?" Dean's eyes fluttered open for a moment, then close again. "It used to annoy the hell out of me, seeing him put you on some damn pedestal, and never caring if it was me in trouble. But then, seeing him yesterday, watching him confess his feelings out loud – I realised. And I'm not mad anymore." Dean shifted in his seat. "It's because of everything you've done for him. He saved you from Hell, and then you saved him right back. You gave him a reason to hope, a family – one that isn't a bunch of dicks. You gave him something to fight for, and a chance to be who he really is. He'll come to you every damn time Dean, cause he fell in love with you the moment he first laid a hand on you. He'll do anything for you, cause you did everything for him."

Sam decided that was enough, and shut up, standing up straight and feeling suddenly awkward. Dean had opened his eyes at last and was staring at Sam from across the room, as if trying to figure something out.

"Well, I've said my piece, so I'm gonna go help Bobby do… something." Dean still said nothing. "Remember what I said. He  _always_ comes when you call." He said again, and left the room.

* * *

Dean was at war with himself. One half of his brain was telling him that this was  _Cas_ , a freakin' dude, angel whatever- and he was sure as hell  _not_ in love with him. Cas was like a nice safety blanket. Reassuring, there when you needed him, useful, very warm draped around you-WOAH. Dean shook his head free of that last thought. But still. A safety blanket was a good description of Castiel. Dean Winchester was not a child – he did not need a blankie. No matter what Sam says. Don't listen to Sam.

The other half of his brain was somewhat louder, presumably, Dean assumed, because of the fresh, humiliating memories of the past day. This half was not-so-subtly reminding him of all the times Castiel had saved Dean, swooping in impressively at the last minute, killing his own brothers just to keep him safe. He was reminded of how Castiel had freaking  _died_ for him, without even really letting Dean consider any other options.

Dean decided to mull things over in his mind. He was pretty safe in his mind. Nobody would know if he entertained the thought of …loving Castiel. It felt weird to even think it. But Cupids were Cupids for a reason, he supposed.

He thought about Castiel's ice blue eyes, filled with such purity, such innocence, slowly darkening over time as he learned what humans were capable of. He thought about Castiel's hands, fluttering lightly over his middle, like wings in themselves, then gripping him tightly, and pulling him in, as though raising him from perdition once more. He thought about the way Castiel tilted his head to the side when he didn't understand something, like a curious bird, trying to view the situation from a new perspective, and gain a better understanding. That one made Dean smile. Lastly, he thought about Castiel's voice, so sensual, so deep and unexpected the first time he heard it in that barn. Castiel's true voice had nearly deafened him of course, but that just reminded Dean of what lurked beneath that human-looking exterior – something too powerful to even comprehend. He felt a shiver run through him at the idea.

He remembered Castiel telling him he loved him in that low, uncertain voice. He wished he'd been in his right mind so he could have… could have what? What did Dean Winchester want now? Entertaining the thought had been enough for him. He realised what he wanted now. What he'd wanted all along really.

He wanted to talk to his angel again.

* * *

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray to Castiel to get his adorable little ass down here, so we can talk about this freaking awkward situation we're suddenly in."

Dean cracked one eye open, and upon seeing the room was still empty, sighed and tried again.

"Cas, I know you can hear me, quit brushing your feathers and get down here. I need to tell you… something."

A waft of air brushed Dean's ear, and he tried not to smile.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel said after a few moments of silence. Dean opened his eyes. Castiel was stood with his back against the wall, looking like he was preparing to fly away any second.

"Hey."

Dean sat upright in his chair, and stared at the figure before him. The angel looked the same as he always did, clad in his trademark too-big trenchcoat and unruly black hair.

"You summoned me." Castiel said at length. Neither of them seemed to be able to start this conversation. Dean raised his eyebrows at that, though.

"I didn't  _summon_  you. You're not my little bitch, Cas." Dean replied, a bit annoyed that Castiel was implying Dean was treating him like a butler. "It was a polite request."

Now it was Cas' turn to raise his eyebrows, and Dean could practically hear the words 'get his adorable little ass down here' swimming around in his brain. He tried not to smile again at the thought.

"I don't think there's anything more to say." Castiel said, not quite meeting Dean's eyes. "I stand by my earlier statement. If you now deem this arrangement between us unmanageable because of my declaration, I understand. I can ask one of my brothers, perhaps Samandiriel if he would watch over you and Sam-"

"Woah, woah! Hold on a minute, will you?" Dean cried, cutting Castiel off mid-flow. Castiel looked worried, and a little annoyed, but stopped speaking. Dean got up from his chair and began pacing the room. Suddenly, he turned to Cas. "I think you're forgetting something, here. I don't want you to  _leave_ Cas, where did you even get that idea?"

Castiel gave a tiny shrug, but looked mildly pleased.

"What did that Cupid say the reason for my being all gooey was?" Dean asked, realising what he was about to reveal for the first time, and feeling his stomach drop in anxiety.

Castiel's brows knitted together. "He said… that he'd broken down your inhibitions… so that your love could freely express itself." The angel said, looking as if he didn't completely understand what he was saying. Human emotions must be difficult for angels to comprehend.

Dean nodded, thinking of the manly acids and chemicals in his stomach that would surely  _kill_ those butterflies flapping away any moment now. "Right. And what did I say when you… after you…" Dean took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. "…when you said you loved me?"

Castiel's gaze immediately dropped to his feet, and Dean could see that he was blushing furiously. He'd be damned if that wasn't the most freaking adorable thing he'd ever seen. Suppressing the (weird) urge to wrap Castiel in his arms and cradle him like a puppy, Dean waited for the angel's reply.

"You said…" Castiel mumbled towards the ground, trailing off.

"Yeah…?" Dean urged. Castiel sighed and looked skywards, like he was wishing he was at home in the clouds right now.

"You said you loved me too." Dean breathed a sigh of relief, glad to know they were on the same page. "But considering you called me 'Castiel-oh-great-and-powerful-angel-of-the-Lord' I wasn't inclined to take you too seriously." Castiel added, almost angrily, or perhaps he was just hurt, Dean couldn't tell.

"Oh come on! Just cause I had a li'l nickname for you doesn't mean it wasn't  _true_! I was off my tits on angel juice, you can't expect me to have been freaking Shakespeare! Cas, I may have said and done some stuff I majorly regret today, but I never said anything that wasn't true." Dean looked at Cas hesitantly, heart pounding. Castiel just stared at Dean, a look of wonder on his face. Of course, being Cas, this wasn't an unusual feat.

"So, when you said that you want to cover me in cake batter and lick-"

"Oh my god." Dean groaned, cutting him off, and squeezed his eyes shut at the memory. When he opened them again, Cas was actually smiling. A proper, wide smile, his cerulean eyes glinting cheekily. "You're a bitch."

Castiel looked worried then, and Dean's heart leapt out to him, like it always did. This time, instead of restraining it and chaining it it down with years of other repressed emotions, Dean let himself feel for the creature before him. He strode over to where Castiel still leaned against the wall and threaded his arms around the angel's middle, laughing a little as he fought his way through endless trenchcoat. Castiel smiled when Dean smiled, so that took care of that nervous little expression that had been there moments before.

Dean leaned down and rested his face against Castiel's bare neck, a few tendrils of black hair tickling his cheekbone. He placed a small kiss against the angel's skin and moved up a bit to whisper in his ear. "I guess it's a good thing I love you so much."

The last thing he saw before pressing his lips against Cas' was the angel's perfect, bashful, adorable smile, and two beautiful blue eyes.

* * *

"I love you too, Dean." Castiel suddenly said out of nowhere, three days later, while Sam, Dean, Bobby and himself were sat at the kitchen table, cleaning guns. Dean looked vaguely surprised, but knew sometimes Castiel took a while to catch up with the rest of the world. Hell, he found it endearing. "I never said it again, after that first time." Cas explained.

"I know you do, Cas." Dean said, grinning, and winked at the angel seated next to him, pulling him forwards by the lapels for a kiss.

Sam mimed sticking his fingers down his throat and throwing up over the table. Dean broke away from Castiel's lips just long enough to whack him with the oily rag he was holding.

"Idgits." Bobby muttered, concentrating hard on the shotgun in his hands. Castiel wondered to whom he was referring.

* * *

Since the…  _incident_ , things were going pretty well. Cas was here pretty much all the time now, which wasn't that much of a problem, since he didn't sleep – although that didn't stop Dean from dragging him into his and Sam's room every night; Sam decided to sleep on the couch – and didn't eat, and was probably the most useful resource in Bobby's library.

For Dean, it was probably the best thing that had happened since being raised from perdition, and he basically walked around with a huge, silly grin plastered to his face. Cas was very pro-making-Dean-happy, which meant that Dean could pretty much get away with anything now, and the make out sessions were becoming a lot more frequent, much to Sam's disgust.

Cas was a quick learner in that area too, despite Dean's initial concerns that he would have a somewhat conservative attitude towards the whole sex thing. To be fair to Dean, the last time he'd seen Cas even attempt that sort of thing was in that damn strip club, and Cas shyly confided to him one night under the covers of his childhood bed, with one hand on the imprint he'd burned into Dean's skin so long ago, that he may have purposefully picked the girl's worst memories to ask her about so that he wouldn't have to go through with it. He had been in love with Dean the whole time.

Dean reeled a bit from that statement, and didn't respond other than to roll Cas over and plant several soft kisses along his jaw and down his neck, sucking softly at the skin because he couldn't help leaving a mark on his angel, even though he knew Sam would comment on it in the morning. Anyway, Cas really seemed to like it, judging by the way he squirmed.

Some mornings, Castiel liked to get up before Dean woke, perhaps flying to Heaven for a while to take care of some business while his hunter was still sleeping.

Most mornings however, Castiel liked to lie beside Dean, feeling his warmth, his solid presence. He liked to watch the flutter of Dean's eyes behind his closed lids, and take a sneak peek at his dreams if he got too curious. Sometimes Dean dreamt of Hell, of searing pain and tortured screams, of chains and blood. Often Dean dreamt of Sam, and even more often with John, their father whom Castiel had never met. He dreamt of Bobby, and of apple pie, and of his beloved car. But sometimes, more often than he would have dared believe, Dean dreamt of Castiel. These dreams were those that Cas liked best of all, because it meant he could brush his lips softly over Dean's while he slept. And when his hunter woke, and saw his dream was a reality, Castiel couldn't remember anything more miraculous in all his thousands of years.

 


End file.
